


Concierge

by astrangerenters



Category: Arashi (Band), Japanese Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, First Dates, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Romance, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 02:18:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5809870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerenters/pseuds/astrangerenters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After ten years of birthday messages exchanged and travel recommendations offered and private meals shared, she’s worried that something might have changed without her realizing it.</p>
<p>[Sho/Asami with mentions of past Aiba/Asami]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Concierge

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Abunai Yakai episode Asami recently appeared on (1/14/16) as well as translations from that episode provided by Transitions0101 on Twitter
> 
> Happy birthday Sho :)

Asami’s on beer number three when she finally has enough courage to ask. “Hey, check something on my phone and tell me I’m not crazy.”

Aiba-kun’s clearing their dinner plates, already heading for the kitchen. “Huh? Your phone?”

She sets it down on his table, scrolling through her LINE messages. “Here, here, look at this one.”

He’s back from the kitchen, kneeling down beside her. “It’s really okay for me to read your private messages?”

“It’s okay for you to read this one.”

He looks a little uncomfortable, and she can understand why. The “Sho-yan” label and accompanying smily face icon probably isn’t helping. Aiba-kun sighs. “This is…Sho-chan sent you this? That’s not my business.”

She gives him a shove. “You know how he thinks better than I do. What’s the hidden message here?”

Aiba reluctantly takes the phone in hand, scratching his cheek as he reads the message that Sakurai Sho sent her at 3:14 AM two nights earlier. The message that’s been driving her crazy ever since. “Asami,” Aiba reads, “it was really great to work with you the other day. Best wishes to you as you work on your drama, I plan to record and watch it. When it’s Asami on the screen, it’s hard to look away.” He looks up, setting the phone down. “So?”

“So!” Asami insists, snatching the phone away, smearing the screen with her finger. “What the hell is he trying to say?”

Aiba’s had four beers, on account of not liking her to get ahead of him. Wouldn’t be gentlemanly, he always says. So the look he gives her then is half-confused, half-giddy-from-drink. “That he’s going to watch your drama?”

“But when he watches me, he can’t look away?!” she complains, shaking her phone in her hand as though it’s Sakurai Sho’s neck she’s wringing. “What the hell is that? Who says that? Is he making fun of me? And who sends that at 3:00 in the morning?”

Aiba looks exhausted with her already. “I don’t know? Maybe he’s a fan of your acting? What is so weird about this and why do you think there’s a hidden message?”

She’s been irritated for two whole days, and this impromptu dinner is supposed to clear things up. Asami knows that most women wouldn’t spontaneously call up an ex-boyfriend and demand to see him immediately (or at least as “immediately” as entertainment industry schedules permit). Even if said ex is on good terms like she and Aiba-kun are. But then again most people’s exes are not in an idol group with someone who has been firmly in the friend category for over a decade now.

For ten years, Asami has considered Sho a friend. Not a super close friend, but a friend she’d be very sad to lose. It’s easy to be friends with him, even with his insane schedule. He’s kind. He’s reliable. He’s helpful. He’s comfortable to be around, not stuck up his own ass like anyone adored by millions of fans could be.

But after ten years of birthday messages exchanged and travel recommendations offered and private meals shared, she’s worried that something might have changed without her realizing it. She’s worried that she’s been blind to something rather obvious. Sakurai Sho covers bar tabs with a faux-arrogant smile and a princely wave of his hand. Sakurai Sho rolls his eyes when she talks a bit too passionately about her cat. Sakurai Sho teases her, playful jokes about makeup or wearing fancy clothes for a shoot when she’s always led a less than glamorous private life.

But Sakurai Sho doesn’t say that it’s hard to keep from watching her. Sakurai Sho doesn’t send her messages in the wee hours of the morning either.

She’s afraid that he might like her, as more than a friend. And even worse, if she’s wrong, if she’s reading more into Sho’s words than what he actually meant, she’s suddenly realized that it would disappoint her. It’s been so easy all these years to just be friends because he’s never been weird about it. He’s never said anything that’s given her mixed signals. In fact, he’s usually more annoying and silly than cryptic.

Asami is currently the dictionary definition of “a mess” because she’s both horrified and delighted at the thought of Sho having romantic feelings for her. Horrified because it’s _Sho_. Delighted because, well, he’s not a bad catch. And imagining that, going on a date with Sho, being doted on by Sho, having a physical relationship with Sho…well, that puts her back into the horrified camp. Hence the panic. Hence the last minute dinner with the ex-boyfriend. Hence the three beers. Hence the-

“Wait a minute,” Aiba interrupts, hand to her shoulder. “Wait, you think Sho-chan…you think he might…”

She shrugs unhelpfully.

Aiba takes the phone back and reads the message again. Then again. Then again. And before he can do so again, she lets out an aggravated growl.

“Does he have a girlfriend?” she demands to know. Aiba’s still looking at the phone, and she pushes him. “Oi, does he have some secret wife and three children somewhere? Answer me!”

“Wow, Asami-chan, would you stop?” Aiba laughs, patting her arm. God, it was so much easier when _he_ was the one who liked her. Because he simply said “Hey, we should go out sometime” and they’d gone from there. No ambiguity with Aiba Masaki.

“No secret family?”

“No secret family,” Aiba assures her. “And we don’t really talk about this stuff, but it’s usually pretty obvious when he’s dating someone, and as far as I know, he’s not.”

“Okay,” she says, exhaling, trying to remind herself that she’s thirty-two and not thirteen. 

She needs another beer. She’s usually much more laid-back in these situations. It’s flattering to be liked, it feels wonderful to be liked. It’s just usually…not this vague. And even more worrisome, if his feelings haven’t changed, if he still thinks of her as just a friend, it’s not like she can simply flip the switch in her own brain and get back to considering him that way. Not now that she’s gone into a sappy spiral and imagined what kissing him might be like…

“So here I am clearing my schedule for you, making you dinner, listening to your hysteria, and it’s all because you wanted the inside scoop on Sho-chan.” Aiba closes his eyes, looking distraught. “I can’t believe you’d use me this way!”

“Oh shut up,” she laughs, closing her LINE app and turning her phone over so she can’t be confronted with the uncertainty another second longer.

Aiba eventually gets up, scrounging around in his freezer for ice cream. She should be at home memorizing lines, and now she’ll be up late. The makeup artist will give her that look come morning when she’s needed for filming. And all because Sakurai Sho is a big weirdo.

“Does he talk about me?” she asks, digging into the ice cream with her spoon.

“Not to me,” Aiba says quietly. “I don’t think he would.”

Ah, she hadn’t thought of it that way. If Sho’s suddenly graduated from “friend feelings” to “beyond friend feelings” regarding her, would he even do something about it? Arashi’s way more important to Sho than she could ever be. Aiba’s place in his life is way too important. It’s absurd to think otherwise.

“What do you plan to do?” he eventually asks her, a supportive smile on his face.

“I don’t know,” she admits. “Delete the message, bury myself in work, and ignore this entirely?”

“Sounds healthy,” Aiba teases. “You know, I don’t think Sho-chan’s ever been very good at being…upfront about things. With women, I mean.”

“I hate that in a man,” she declares, swallowing another spoonful. “So cowardly!”

“You have to admit it would be weird for him though. He has a hard enough time opening up as it is, and if he really does like you, he still might not want to do anything about it. Knowing we used to…”

She shuts her eyes, shaking her head. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“But for the record, I wouldn’t care. Actually, I think it would be awesome.” He points at her with his spoon. “You two would have really awesome fights.”

“Your support is noted.”

“I’m in your corner,” Aiba decides. “Because if you can be happy and Sho-chan can be happy, then why wouldn’t I be? Why don’t you try and get him to make things clearer?”

“And if I’m making something out of nothing? If he doesn’t like me like that?” she worries. “I’d be throwing away ten years of friendship. I’d never be able to face him again.”

“Now who’s being cowardly?”

She scowls at him. He smiles in return.

—

8:02 AM  
asami: Sho-yan can you send me some places that might be good for lunch catering?

8:02 AM  
asami: I want to cater in lunch for the cast and crew here.

10:19 AM  
Sho-yan: Haven’t you done this before yourself?

11:04 AM  
asami: Yes but I thought you might know something new!

11:04 AM  
asami: Maybe a smaller family place. Or something with a funky menu. Something different!

3:02 PM  
Sho-yan: I see

3:03 PM  
Sho-yan: Sorry for the delay. We are filming today. Will email later.

—

At 2:42 in the morning, Asami’s phone wakes her when it vibrates on her bedside table. She falls back asleep, waking at 5:00 to get ready and head in to the set. Sho has emailed a list of 46 restaurants, organized by cuisine type with links to menus and reviews. He’s put stars next to ones that he’s ordered from before, complete with his own personal, detailed review. He’s got information about promotional pricing and group rates, delivery fees, anything she could possibly need. 

To top it off, he’s got a note at the end telling her that if she doesn’t like any of what he’s already sent, he’d be happy to find more options. He’s signed it “Your Personal Concierge Service, Sakurai Sho.”

“You’ve already sent 46 choices,” she says to her phone, laughing.

He’s usually thorough when she asks him for recommendations. But he’s never _this_ thorough. It’s usually a handful of places that he or his friends like.

It’s encouraging, but it’s not enough. Not just yet.

—

5:09 PM  
asami: Thanks again for the places you sent last week. They’re delivering to us next Thursday. I went with the Korean place you recommended. They were really kind.

8:47 PM  
Sho-yan: Great!!! The carbonara tteokbokki is crazy delicious, very different. Make sure you get that!!

9:09 PM  
asami: Since you’ve been so helpful, Personal Concierge Service, how about date spots? 

9:14 PM  
Sho-yan: Date spots? wwwwwww

9:18 PM  
asami: Like a place you’d go with a date. A restaurant you like for that sort of thing.

9:19 PM  
Sho-yan: Seriously?

9:20 PM  
asami: Never mind

9:21 PM  
Sho-yan: No I can help. 

9:22 PM  
Sho-yan: What kind of date? Like a first date? Blind date? 

9:22 PM  
Sho-yan: ?????????

9:27 PM  
asami: First. No pressure sort of thing. Nothing too fancy.

9:28 PM  
Sho-yan: Do I know him?

9:29 PM  
asami: ??

9:30 PM  
Sho-yan: Your date. Do I know him?

9:34 PM  
asami: At what point did I say I was asking for myself?

9:36 PM  
Sho-yan: Too bad www. I’ll get you something by Monday morning. Urgent?

9:42 PM  
asami: No

9:42 PM  
asami: Thanks

—

Sho’s list of date spots arrives in her inbox while she’s in wardrobe, and she only has a minute to look at it before she’s needed on set. Unlike the catering list, Sho’s list of first date spots is considerably more…curated. In fact, this time he’s only sent along five.

A coffee shop in Shimokita. An Italian place in Ebisu. A breakfast cafe in Nakameguro by the river. Two Japanese restaurants within blocks of each other in Asakusa.

This time there aren’t any stars or personal reviews. It’s simply the list, links to their websites and menus, and online reviews.

She puts her phone away and is happy to lose herself in work, in spending time between takes chatting with her fellow cast members, the crew. Anything but the email from Sho that she’s pried out of him. But when work is over, she’s stuck with what she’s asked for. She still isn’t quite sure what she was trying to do, asking for date spots as though she was asking for a friend. Get a reaction? Make him jealous? She definitely hasn’t accomplished that, if he was able to laugh at her.

She knows that Aiba’s advice, if she asks him, would be to be more straightforward. Aiba would tell her to ask Sho where he would take _her_ for a first date, but she supposes she’s accomplished that indirectly. When she’s back home, she leaves her script beside her on the couch and instead visits the website of each restaurant. They’re all unpretentious, praised by reviewers for good food and good service. For being cozy and comfortable.

Each suggestion is exactly what she asked for, perfectly suited to her tastes as usual. Thousands of restaurants and cafes in Tokyo, and he’s managed to find five that fit her so precisely, she wonders how he does it. Ah, but it’s something he enjoys doing. He probably sits on Yelp for hours, whether he’s coming up with ideas for her or any of his other friends. And she knows Sho has a lot of friends. What he’s done for her he’d do for anyone else, right?

It’s a month before she has the courage to do anything about it.

—

11:04 PM  
asami: My friend checked out the Italian restaurant you recommended. She loved it! Thanks!

11:07 PM  
Sho-yan: I’m glad!

11:11 PM  
asami: Have you been there before?

11:12 PM  
Sho-yan: No but it’s supposed to be really good. 

11:13 PM  
Sho-yan: It was actually Matsujun who told me about it. 

11:15 PM  
asami: What??? I am outraged. My personal concierge is outsourcing requests now???? www

11:16 PM  
Sho-yan: He’s better than me with places like that. He’s romantic, you know www. He had about a dozen suggestions. If you need them, I can give him your number www

11:29 PM  
asami: Want to try it sometime?

11:34 PM  
Sho-yan: The restaurant?

11:38 PM  
asami: Yeah, the Italian one. I was reading the link again, they’ve got private rooms. Don’t want to get you in trouble.

11:40 PM  
Sho-yan: You want to go there with me?

11:44 PM  
asami: Should I ask Matsumoto-san instead? www

1:04 AM  
Sho-yan: Sorry got a call

1:04 AM  
Sho-yan: I can send you my schedule. Let’s find a time.

1:07 AM  
Sho-yan: I was reading the menu again, it sounds pretty good. Should I ask anyone else to come? Nino’s been asking about you. 

1:09 AM  
Sho-yan: You can ask who you want, I don’t mind.

1:32 AM  
Sho-yan: The website says they have private rooms available for 2 to 20 people. Nino doesn’t have to come, he’d make me pay for his food, you know him www.

1:39 AM  
Sho-yan: You’re probably sleeping, I’m really sorry

—

This time the emergency dinner meeting is at her apartment, and it’s just take-out. She’s pacing the floor with a container of pad thai, mouth full and freaking out.

This time Ninomiya-kun is along for the ride, if only because he’d been in the middle of driving Aiba home from filming one of their variety shows when she called, desperate for insight. Now she has two-fifths of Arashi eating mediocre Thai delivery in her living room in hopes of getting some answers about how to deal with another fifth of their group.

Nino’s nibbling on an egg roll, scratching her cat’s back. It’s been years since she’s met with Nino privately, if only to prove her loyalty to Masami after their break-up. Nino doesn’t hold it against her. He doesn’t even seem to think it’s odd that she and Aiba still have friendly meet ups once in a while. No, what Nino finds odd is the weirdness going on between her and Sho.

“So rude, the things he says about me,” Nino grumbles, chewing and talking at the same time because they’ve known each other too long to bother caring about such things.

“Do you think he thinks it’s a date? Do you think he thinks I just asked him out?” Asami frets, digging around in the container for a piece of chicken.

“Well, you _did_ ask him out,” Nino reminds her. “He’s just being dense and acting like you asked him to set up a group meeting for you, him, and eighteen of your closest celebrity friends at a romantic Italian restaurant.”

“You know, instead of relying on LINE you could just call him. You’ve got his number?” Aiba asks.

She nods.

“Call him and say ‘Sho-san, that Italian place, it’s just you and me,’” Aiba suggests, trying to imitate her voice and sounding more like a sick crow. That isn’t what he really thinks she sounds like, is it? 

“I’ve already done the hard part, asking him to go. If he’s too stupid to realize what I was asking, then maybe it’s not meant to be. Or maybe he’s not interested and I’m wasting my time.”

Nino snorts. “He’s interested.”

“What?” she demands, stepping over Aiba where he’s sitting on her floor and looming over Nino. “What did you just say?”

“Asami always messages me on LINE,” Nino says. This time it’s his turn to do an impression. His Sakurai Sho sounds like a pompous buffoon though. But it’s confirmation that Sho is thinking about her, at least around Nino. “Asami trusts my recommendations. Asami _relies_ on me.”

“Can’t you just…” She hates that she’s asking this. It’s probably a violation of some stupid guy code. “Can’t you, uh, intervene? Help me out here?”

“We are pretty good at intervening,” Aiba admits. “Remember Miyagi?”

Nino sits back, leaning against her sofa when the cat runs off. “I do.”

“What’s Miyagi?”

“Oh, Aiba-chan and I just had a little clothing intervention for him. Sho-chan, he needs a lot of help in quite a lot of areas,” Nino explains. “Fashion. Cooking. The wooing of the ladies.”

Aiba lets out one of his silly laughs. “We could hand him a condom and tape it to a photo of you.”

She smacks him. “Oi! You!”

“I can’t believe you used to go out with this guy,” Nino teases.

“It was a dark time in my life,” she jokes, and Aiba pretends to look offended.

They wrap up their meal, and she sends them home with the leftovers as thanks for at least letting her yell at them for a few hours. What she doesn’t expect is for the Ninomiya and Aiba intervention to happen quite so soon.

By the time she gets home the following evening, she gets a call while she’s in the bath. When she emerges, relaxed and pruny, there’s a voicemail on her phone from Sakurai Sho.

“Hey, it’s me. Hi,” he says, and it’s the first time she’s heard his voice since they filmed for Abunai Yakai. Hearing his voice in a commercial on TV doesn’t quite count. “Hey so, uh, you never replied back about the Italian place. I’m sure you’re busy with work obligations, so I apologize for calling and adding to your burden. But um, when you’re done with filming I’m sure we can find a good time to meet up for a meal. We’ve got some live dates in late April and early May, nothing major but uh, it’ll be a bit crazy for a while. But I just want to make sure you know that I…that I’d like to meet up. So. Yep. Whenever you get a chance, let me know. We’ll work it out. Okay? Okay then. Okay. Bye bye.”

She replays the message twice to convince herself it’s real before she bursts into a fit of laughter.

—

10:13 AM  
asami: Sho-yan, I could use your assistance once again

1:14 PM  
Sho-yan: What do you need?

2:27 PM  
asami: [red-dress.jpg] [blue-dress.jpg] [black-dress-polka-dots.jpg]

2:28 PM  
asami: Your recommendation?

2:30 PM  
Sho-yan: Are you at the store? www

2:32 PM  
asami: No. Which one do you like most?

2:33 PM  
Sho-yan: In what context?

2:35 PM  
asami: The context of me wearing it tomorrow

4:01 PM  
Sho-yan: Blue

5:19 PM  
asami: Is it because it’s the shortest one?

5:45 PM  
Sho-yan: What if I said yes?

5:49 PM  
asami: I’d assume you were making fun of me

5:57 PM  
Sho-yan: Wear what you like best. I like when you go the extra mile. Stylish Mizukawa!

6:02 PM  
asami: Now you’re just being a jerk

6:10 PM  
Sho-yan: Pick you up at 7:30!

—

She wears the blue.

He’s got a nervous smile when she gets in his car. “You’re really going for something tonight,” he mumbles, “well done.”

She rolls her eyes, buckling her seat belt. “I’d say thank you, but I don’t think you’re being sincere.”

“I am,” he insists, pulling out of the garage under her building and onto the street. She barely hears him over the radio noise, but she’s convinced that he says “you look really nice” before shutting up for most of the drive to the restaurant, save for some quiet singing along with the radio.

Luckily they’ve had meals together plenty of times before, so it’s easy enough to go through the motions. When he has a meal with a guy friend, she gets the sense he doesn’t put in too much extra effort to disguise himself. But with her, he usually hangs back, finds parking while she goes inside. He’ll then go through a rear entrance, sneak inside to avoid prying eyes. He does the same tonight, and she goes in first and is shown to one of the private rooms in the back.

What surprises her is the bouquet of flowers on the table. Fresh spring flowers, half a dozen varieties and colors. Going by the regular decor of the restaurant, she realizes this isn’t a centerpiece for the table but something extra. She sits down, accepting a menu with a mumbled thank you. 

He arrives a few minutes later, and unlike the t-shirt, jeans, and baseball cap she’s used to seeing him wear privately, he’s stepped up. Blazer, button-down dress shirt, really nice denim. It’s not a fancy restaurant by any means, but she finally has confirmation that this is different from the norm. They’re both on the same page about what this is. A date. Oh god, she realizes, this really _is_ a date.

They stare at their menus in a bit of an awkward silence before she finally sets hers down on the table. “You’re the type that buys flowers, huh?”

He blushes a bit, shrugging. “You don’t like them?”

“I like them.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Then what’s wrong with it?”

He’s got that teasing, accusatory tone again, the tone that pisses her off. “There’s nothing wrong with it!”

He chuckles, putting her more at ease. “I’ve been told recently that I can be kind of…vague. About what I feel.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.” 

“Whoever told you that is right.” She leans back a little, wishing they could get back to their usual comfort zones. For years, it’s been so easy to just talk to him. He’s funny, he always has a crazy story, he listens to her in return. She’s convinced herself this is what she wants, but being confronted with it - a quiet dinner in a private room, flowers on the table, flirting that actually means something - it feels strange. “Is this something you really want?”

“What do you mean?”

“Me. To be here with me. As more than my personal concierge.” She watches him shift a little in his seat. “After all this time, or have I just not been paying attention?”

“Pikanchi,” he admits, “that probably was it. Working with you again. I just started thinking differently. I don’t know what to say, but I don’t think it’s about you not paying attention. It’s about me looking back and looking forward and realizing some things.”

“Still vague,” she chides him. 

“I know,” he says, laughing again.

Before he can explain further, the waitress returns to get their order. They both order pasta and he lets her pick a bottle of wine to split. 

“I know this is weird for you,” he says when they’re alone again. “And it’s weird for me too.”

“Because of Aiba-kun?”

He stiffens a little, has a sip of water. “Not…not really. It’s just…you mean a lot to me. You have for a long time. I don’t want to screw things up.”

She gestures to the vase on the table. “You made a good start.”

“That was Nino’s idea,” Sho admits weakly, shaking his head.

He’s always been cute. That’s something she’s never been in doubt over. He’s handsome and charming, but it was kind of an abstract concept. Sho has always been the “handsome and charming” friend and never the “handsome and charming” suitor. Sho has never been a realistic possibility. But tonight he is. He’s meeting her eyes, he’s really looking at her. His words might be vague and uncertain, but the rest of him clearly isn’t.

She slaps the table with both hands, making him jump. “How about we just eat like we normally do? Talk like we normally do? It doesn’t have to be weird if we don’t let it be.”

He nods. “No pressure?”

“No pressure,” she agrees.

—

They sat at the restaurant drinking water, eating tiramisu until Sho was good to drive. She’s invited him up because she’s always invited him up to chat. But, she realizes when she’s coming out of the elevator with him at her heels, what she’s always done means something different tonight.

Once they’d both admitted to the strangeness of their situation at dinner, she’d been able to relax. He had the usual stories about work, she had her own. By the time their pasta arrived, they were back to normal with only a few tweaks. He held her gaze longer, he complimented her without joking. She has to admit to herself that it was exciting, thrilling. A possibility she’d never truly considered unfolding before her eyes.

She unlocks the door, and he follows her inside. Before she can slip her heels off, he’s got a hand on her shoulder. She hasn’t even turned on the light.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she says back, suddenly nervous again.

“Just so I’m not vague, I want you to know that this was really great.”

“I had fun, too.”

“And I want to do it again.”

“So do I.” She smiles shyly. “There’s still four other places on that list you sent. The date spots, I mean.”

She holds in a breath when he turns her around. She can hardly see him, but she can hear him, smell him, feel his hands resting on her shoulders. It’s Sho, that awkwardly polite boy. It’s Sho, that superstar who’s managed to stay relatively humble. She’s played his wife before, but that was fiction. That was her job. 

“I want this to work,” he admits. “But you know that I’m busy and…”

“And I’m not?”

His laughter warms her from head to toe, makes her heart race. “What I mean to say is that I want to try. I really want to try and make this work. If you want to, that is. If this was too strange, then I won’t be offended.”

“It was a good sort of strange. And it’s good to hear you finally tell the truth.”

“The truth?”

“About how gorgeous I am and how you can no longer resist my allure.”

He laughs again, pulling her into his arms. This isn’t the first time he’s hugged her, but it’s the first time it’s meant something different. She likes to believe she could get used to this.

“Sho-yan?”

“Mmm?”

“I didn’t invite you up here for sex.”

“Hey, hey!” He squeezes tighter, laughing harder. “I didn’t think you did!”

“Just so I’m not vague,” she teases, wrapping her arms around his neck, feeling his hand rubbing her back gently. “I think that should be the policy. Being upfront.”

“I see. That’s quite reasonable.”

“But if you _did_ want to kiss me, that would be fine.”

He hesitates, but only so he can press a kiss to her hair. “There was garlic in my pasta sauce.”

“True. But there was garlic in mine, too.”

She closes her eyes, feeling his fingers trace along her jaw. This time his teasing tone isn’t so annoying. It’s downright toe-curling. Who knew he had it in him? He whispers in her ear.

“Well, in that case…”

—

9:45 PM  
Sho-yan: Rehearsals will probably go late so this is your good night message

10:19 PM  
asami: Since when are we doing good night messages?

11:27 PM  
Sho-yan: Since I thought it would be romantic?

11:39 PM  
asami: Barf! Barf! Barf! wwwwwww

1:58 AM  
Sho-yan: Still up?

2:02 AM  
asami: No

2:03 AM  
Sho-yan: Why did you reply?

2:07 AM  
asami: I make stupid decisions after midnight

2:08 AM  
asami: Sho-yan, what would you recommend?

2:09 AM  
Sho-yan: ???

2:11 AM  
asami: [red-panties1.jpg] [pink-panties.jpg] [boxers-plaid.jpg]

2:14 AM  
Sho-yan: Tough call. I think this is a matter that ought to be settled in person.

2:17 AM  
asami: I await your expert opinion


End file.
